Xie Lian never expected that someone would actually hand him a wine cup.
Blame it on his quick reflexes; he took it without thinking, and only after did he freeze in place. But then, looking at the person who handed the cup, he found that Ming Yi was just as stunned.
It turned out that the wine cup had first been passed to Shi Qingxuan, who, to make a joke, handed it to Ming Yi. Ming Yi, with his head down, was drinking and eating without looking, and carelessly passed it on, only reacting after it happened, leaving him speechless. Meanwhile, the thunder ceased abruptly, leaving the two of them staring at each other.
Although it was Xie Lian who took the wine cup, everyone's eyes were drawn to Feng Xin and Mu Qing. It was easy to understand the reason. Xie Lian had been forgotten for over eight hundred years.
Eight hundred years ago, he was the subject of many boisterous and romantic stories, but by now, they had long been lost. No one would set up a stage to perform for him on a day like today.
If they had to look for a play involving the “Crown Prince of the Divine Joy Kingdom," the only ones would be plays with Feng Xin or Mu Qing as the main character.
This was because, when folk plays were written about these two deities, Xie Lian was sometimes used. Typically, he was there just to serve as a backdrop, a minor role.
Others even went so far as to make him a villain in order to spice up the play, adding scenes such as bullying the loneliness of Mu Qing or stealing away Feng Xin's beloved. If such scenes were really performed at the Mid-Autumn Festival, regardless of whether the protagonists were happy, the rest of the audience would certainly enjoy it.
Xie Lian held the small jade cup, and there were already officials urging him, "Crown Prince, come on, just drink it!"
More people joined in to urge him, and from afar, Feng Xin said, "The Crown Prince shouldn't drink."
Everyone responded, "It's only one cup! It won't matter."
Jun Wu had been resting his chin in his hand, staying silent, but now he seemed to sit up slightly, as if to speak. At the same time, Shi Qingxuan, standing beside Xie Lian, asked, "Can you do it? If you can't, I'll spend one hundred thousand merits to close the curtain for you."
"..." Xie Lian feared he might really act impulsively and waste so many merits. No matter how generous, that wasn't the way to be. And anyway, he didn't care what kind of story it was, as he had seen all sorts; he hurriedly waved his hand, "No need, don't need it, one cup shouldn't be a problem." With these words, he drank the wine in one go.
The wine slid down his throat, starting cool and then warm, making Xie Lian a little dizzy. However, he steadied himself after a moment and pushed the dizziness away. The curtains around the pavilion slowly began to fall, and everyone's attention turned towards the stage, ready to focus on the performance.
What they saw was quite a spectacle: There were two people on stage. One was dressed in white, face powdered, covered in the dust of travel, and carrying a straw hat on his back – it was unmistakably Xie Lian. The other was dressed in red, black hair like lacquer, with a lively and spirited appearance, holding a long snake in his hand. The "Xie Lian" snatched it away, and the red-clothed person immediately seized it back, grabbing "Xie Lian's" hand and refusing to let go. The expression on his face was as though his heart had been stabbed deeply.
This scene left all the watching deities dumbfounded, including Xie Lian himself. At this moment, Jun Wu, at the head of the table, chuckled and asked, "What kind of script is this? I don't think I've seen it before."
Ling Wen immediately called for someone to investigate, "It seems this play is called 'Tale of the Half Moon Kingdom,' it's newly written, so it hasn't been seen before. Tonight is its first performance in the human realm."
Shi Qingxuan turned to Xie Lian, "It must be from the merchants from the Half Moon Kingdom who went back and had someone write it. Saves on merits now, don't need to close any curtains."
Xie Lian had no comment. The only people who could know about the Half Moon Kingdom matters were those merchants. He recalled that there was a young man named Tian Sheng in that caravan who said he wanted to thank Xie Lian or worship him in some way. Could it be that this play was commissioned by Tian Sheng? But Xie Lian never told Tian Sheng his name, and such a young boy might not have the means to do all this.
Elsewhere, beneath the stage, although the deities didn't see the play they anticipated, what unfolded before their eyes was certainly much more intriguing. After all, if the rumors were true, then the person in red, as played on stage, was portraying Hua Cheng!
There were many plays in the human world about Crimson Rain Sought Flower. However, they often depicted scenes like “Crimson Rain Sought Flower burning down thirty-three temples; the Heavenly Court couldn’t do anything” or “Crimson Rain Sought Flower single-handedly defeating the civil and martial gods.”
Watching this left the heavenly realm personnel wiping their tears; nobody knew what this script would turn into. Since the main character was Xie Lian, there was always a sense of disconnect, as if they didn’t consider him part of the Heavenly Court's "own." So there was no harm in watching.
Additionally, the stage was exquisite, the production fine, and the actors well-portrayed, making it truly a work of dedication. So, inevitably, they watched with fervor, commenting as they went:
"Is it true? They just made that up, Hua Cheng would never speak like that to anyone!"
"Utter nonsense, absolute nonsense!"
"This play is turning Hua Cheng into what? Wake up! This isn’t some romantic script, are they really that bold to make it up like this?"
Since it was a performance specifically made for him, Xie Lian was watching it seriously as well. Honestly speaking, the play was well done. The portrayal and the performance were great, but as someone being portrayed, there was one small opinion he held: the two main characters seemed a bit too close.
The one portraying himself had good skills, but every time he called out "San Lang," although not sentimental or deep, the way he said it felt more unsettling than the way Wind Master once called Water Master her "dear" or "beloved." Moreover, there seemed to be too many small actions, with hand-holding, shoulder-hugging, and embracing, which seemed somehow inappropriate.
But thinking it over, he did call Hua Cheng that way, and he indeed did those small actions. At the time, it seemed fine, and logically, it should still seem fine now. Looking around at the other deities, although they muttered about the nonsense, they still watched intently, engrossed in the scene, leaving Xie Lian no choice but to keep quiet. Watching on, suddenly, Mu Qing asked a question, "What are those two servants doing?"
Upon hearing "servants," both Feng Xin and Mu Qing tensed up slightly.
Ling Wen replied, "Those aren’t two servants. They should be two junior martial officers from the Central Heavenly Court. Back then, volunteers were called from Nanyang Hall and Profound Truth Hall to go and support the Crown Prince in an emergency."
To think that there were volunteers from Nanyang Hall and Profound Truth Hall helping Xie Lian was indeed sensational, akin to Pei Ming solemnly refusing the advances of a stunning beauty. All the deities turned their gazes towards them. Ling Wen added, "They went voluntarily."
Xie Lian chuckled, "I forgot to ask, how's Nan Feng and Fu Yao? Why haven’t they come out to enjoy the festival today?"
Feng Xin said, "Nan Feng… is..."
Mu Qing nonchalantly said, "Fu Yao is in confinement."
Feng Xin immediately added, "Nan Feng is also in confinement."
Xie Lian gave an "oh," saying, "Both of them are in confinement? What a pity."
As they conversed, the play came to a spectacular conclusion. Although considered the naive imagination of some believers, the enjoyment of imagining Hua Cheng brought rounds of applause. However, owing to the incident at the Half Moon Pass which led to Pei Su’s exile, people spared some attention for Pei Ming. Mu Qing asked, “General Pei, how's your Junior Pei nowadays?”
Pei Ming poured himself a drink before shaking his head, “What can I say? He didn’t focus on important matters. I can’t manage him now.”
Here, Shi Qingxuan couldn’t help but interject, “So according to General Pei, what is considered important? Your Junior Pei's future is a future but the young lady's isn’t?”
His tone was unpleasant, and Mu Qing swept his gaze over, saying, “Qingxuan, don’t be rude!”
With a reprimand, Shi Qingxuan sheepishly lowered his head. Seeing this, Pei Ming laughed heartily, “Mu Qing, your brother is something, only you can manage him now. If he provokes me, it’s nothing; if he provokes someone else one day, they won’t spare him because of me.”
Mu Qing unfolded his fan, continuing to chastise his brother, “Did you hear General Pei’s words? Also, I’ve told you countless times not to run around with this appearance outside. Have some dignity. I don’t care what form you prefer, but you must use your true form in public.”
Although Shi Qingxuan dearly loved presenting as a woman and was thoroughly indignant, he still dared not argue with his brother. Xie Lian thought, “Wind Master says he’s not afraid of his brother, but that may not be entirely true.” Unexpectedly, Mu Qing further said, “What if you encounter someone as powerful yet ill-intentioned as General Pei?”
Ling Wen laughed, nearly causing Pei Ming to spit his drink, “Mu Qing! If you keep that up, we can’t even talk anymore!”
After eating and drinking all night, they finally reached the last part: the lantern competition.
In the Immortal Capital, all candles and bright lights were extinguished, leaving only moonlight, enveloping everything in darkness. The banquet by the lake unfolded the mists and vapors over the lake's surface. Through the clear flowing water, one could glimpse the dark abyss of the human world below.
The lantern competition was about the number of lanterns offered in the greatest, most renowned temple or shrine of a deity on the Mid-Autumn Festival. One blessing lantern was priced as high as gold, long-lasting. The sequence was announced from the least to the most, and as a deity's turn came, the lanterns offered by their believers would float up to the Heavenly Court, lighting up the dark night, beautifully magnificent.
This year, the Divine Martial Hall had nine hundred and sixty-one blessing lanterns, nearly a thousand, unprecedented. Many deities believed they would break the thousand mark next year, though that wasn’t the focus. The first place had always remained unsurpassed, losing its significance, so during this lantern competition, the Divine Martial Hall had already been excluded by those present.
The amusing part was how the lantern competition began with the Rain Master as the first to be announced. When Xie Lian saw a small blessing lamp lazily and shakily rise into the sky and heard “Rain Master's Temple, one lamp!” he doubted his sanity, thinking he might still be drunk, as there couldn’t possibly be only one. To verify his sobriety, he asked Shi Qingxuan, “Was there a mistake?”
Shi Qingxuan replied, “Nope. Just one. That sole lamp was offered by the Rain Master's own cow, just to prop up the scene.”
The act of offering for oneself — this kind of behavior was truly endearing. Xie Lian pondered for a moment, as Rain Master governed rain and was also a god of agriculture, speculating, “Could it be because Rain Master’s believers are mostly farmers, hence less affluent to make offerings?”
Shi Qingxuan retorted, “Crown Prince, do you misunderstand farmers? Many are quite wealthy, you know? Actually, it’s because the Rain Master once said it's better to invest in farming than offering lamps, so their followers always offered fresh fruits and vegetables.”
Hearing this made Xie Lian envy deeply, thinking, “Such wonderful deeds.”
Yet, Shi Qingxuan continued, “Later, the Rain Master even said not to waste, so usually offerings are reclaimed by believers themselves to consume after a couple of days.”
“…”
Initially, scattered here and there were some minor deities, with blessing lamps ranging from a few to dozens, failing to spark much interest. However, the more they proceeded, the more vibrant and frequent the light of each rising lamp became, and the more people focused.
Without a designated deity to announce it, the descending lamps became so numerous that counting them became an impossibility. Xie Lian, clueless, refrained from passing any judgment, attentively admiring the beauty of lamps lighting the dark long night, meanwhile listening to others analyze the competition results. Though he felt there wasn’t much to analyze in such matters.
Approximately two incense sticks later, the dramatic finale unfolded. The Mid-Autumn Lantern Competition embarked on its final top ten showdown.
Rounding out the end of the top ten, Xie Lian heard the deities proclaim aloud: “Hall of Valor, four hundred and twenty-one lamps!”
Quan Yizhen had already left, and the murmuring disapproval from other deities was unmasked. This young martial god from the west, though young, showed a fierce momentum; others in his generation with the same experience, having two hundred blessing lamps was quite a feat. Yet, he doubled that number. His junior god Longevity Qianqiu had slightly fewer blessing lamps but was still quite outstanding. But to Xie Lian, it was evident that the young man's connections in the Heavenly Court weren’t particularly good, with only himself and Shi Qingxuan genuinely impressed by these accomplishments.
Next, the Earth Master's temple had four hundred forty-four blessing lamps. Besides drinking more soup, Ming Yi showed no other reaction, while Shi Qingxuan appeared more stirred, repeatedly expressing the number was too low. Given everyone’s general unfamiliarity with Earth Master, they offered ceremonial applause as congratulations. Right after came Shi Qingxuan himself, the Wind Master's temple, with five hundred and twenty-three blessing lamps.
Whether a person was liked or not became quickly apparent. Hearing the number of Wind Master's lamps reported, Shi Qingxuan barely spoke before applause erupted all around in congratulation, with words of praise and acknowledgment of worthiness echoing. Shi Qingxuan, vastly pleased, rose and bowed in all directions, shouting across to Mu Qing, "Brother, I’m the eighth this year!"
With the air of a student acclaiming honor from his tutor, Xie Lian watched, amused, though Mu Qing scolded, "It’s only eighth place, what’s there to feel so proud about?"
His words were incredibly arrogant. Anyone among the Upper Heavenly Court wasn’t an ordinary individual. Five hundred blessing lamps securing eighth place were belittled as "only this?" By his standard, were those beneath eighth place worth even less than "only?" Mu Qing was aware of the inappropriateness, yet he spoke so fearlessly, as he wasn't intimidated. Shi Qingxuan appeared doleful for a moment, but Mu Qing, shaking his fan, relented, "But you’ve more lamps this year than last; next year you must have even more."
With this, Shi Qingxuan beamed again. Despite everything, beneath the table, Ming Yi, the only one with a serious expression, stayed immersed in eating, refusing to applaud. Shi Qingxuan annoyed, demanded applause be given to him, making Xie Lian and the others laugh without end.
Next up was the temple of Ling Wen, boasting five hundred and thirty-six lanterns.
Among the literature gods, Ling Wen took the lead. However, not many literary gods celebrated, rather it was primarily the martial gods who showed much appreciation.
From afar, Xie Lian offered his congratulations, overhearing Mu Qing and Pei Ming ask him to host a banquet, while elsewhere a deity grumbled—Ling Wen only acquired numerous devotees because she transformed into a male form, knowing to curry favor with popular martial gods instead of literature gods; Ling Wen was said to be the most enthusiastic about hosting guests and sometimes even hired escorts for her gatherings.
Xie Lian just shook his head, inwardly concluding: Female gods really had it tough.
Next were the Southern Sun and Profound Truth halls, having five hundred seventy-two and seventy-three lamps respectively. Mu Qing smiled, his brows easing, while Feng Xin showed no sign of happiness or anger, seemingly unfazed. This left Xie Lian puzzled, why did their numbers end so closely?
That felt too coincidental! He asked in hushed tones to Shi Qingxuan, learning it was because both, owing to their close origins, adjacent domains, and similar strengths, coupled with mutual rivalry between them, each side’s followers were bent on outshining the other, swearing to have one more lamp than the other's temple.
They weren't seeking first place, just higher than the other. They went all out each year, alternately claiming wins. This year, at the last moment, Profound Truth Hall managed to increase by another lamp, surpassing the Southern Sun Hall, akin to winning a battle, celebrating grandly.
Listening, Xie Lian couldn’t help but think, "Quarreling over one more lamp till bloodied, don’t these people return home for the holiday? Today was Mid-Autumn after all."
The next was Bright Light Hall, five hundred and eighty lamps.
The number was quite considerable. Nonetheless, Pei Ming showed no joy, because compared to the last year, Bright Light Hall had fewer lamps. Deputy god Pei Su’s fall came as a blow, with nearly one hundred fewer lamps this year. If it weren't for Pei Ming’s stable foundation, the decrease might’ve been greater. Instead of congratulating him, Mu Qing and Ling Wen patted him on the shoulder.
By now, Xie Lian noticed, several deity's lamp numbers were quite clustered, in dozens or tens, seemingly inseparable. In other words, everyone was practically on par, none achieving distinctly above others. Just as he thought this, he heard the narrator announce, "Water Master's Hall, seven hundred eighteen lamps!"
A ripple of astonishment spread through the gathering, along with clamorous sighs of surprise.
The deities quickly reacted, racing to offer their congratulations. Mu Qing merely sat, not standing up, bearing no arrogance, only a look of expectation. This might have been the closest a second-place deity had ever been to the Divine Martial Hall’s lamp count in over a hundred years. As Xie Lian had soared to celestial prominence, the difficulty of a single blessing lamp had escalated, thus it couldn't be applied uniformly. Regardless, "man dies for wealth, birds for food"; the love for wealth never diminishes, truly befitting a Wealth God!
Shi Qingxuan was more excited than even his own result, fervently clapping, proclaiming to Xie Lian repeatedly, "My brother! That's my brother!"
Xie Lian chuckled, "I know, it's your brother!"
Still, only Ming Yi, among everyone, dedicated himself to eating. Factually, Xie Lian thought he might be the only one earnestly regarding this feast, valuing the meal, as if determined to thoroughly indulge after years of poor meagre meals during his underground demon city surveillance. Recalling how Hua Cheng possibly sauntered the market stalls at the ghost city, Xie Lian couldn't help but wonder if Hua Cheng also strolled those streets.
With the most enchanting revelation unveiled, the deities were satiated with drama, replete with conversation, thoroughly satisfied. They began to rise, preparing to leave one by one. Suddenly, Mu Qing furrowed his brow, snapped his fan shut, stating, “Hold on.”
When someone else said "hold on," it wouldn’t have as strong an effect. But Mu Qing, truly like his moniker "Moving Water Across the Sky," issuing commands with an inherent authority, inspiring others to listen without hesitation. Everyone settled back down, inquiring, “The top ten have been announced; what else does the Water Master have to say?”
Xie Lian thought, "Could it be a distribution of merits?"
Mu Qing swung his fan, saying, “The top ten have been announced?”
No one knew what he was referring to, while Shi Qingxuan exclaimed, “...It’s not right. So very wrong. Only nine were announced!”
The gathered deities were instantly alarmed, collectively questioning, “Only nine were announced?”
“Really, I counted, and it really is only nine!”
“Someone ahead of the Water Master?!”
“What? Who could it be? I don’t remember anyone else?”
In that moment, the darkness suddenly erupted in dazzling brightness like daylight.
The light came from lamps.
Like thousands of swimming fishes crossing the ocean, countless lamps slowly ascended.
They shimmered brightly in the enveloping darkness, vivid and breathtaking, reminiscent of floating souls or dreamlike wonders—magnificent beyond words, illuminating the pitch-black human realm. Such a spectacle defied expression, leaving only suspended breaths and broken phrases.
Xie Lian stared, spellbound by the countless lamps dotting the sky, nearly breathless, adrift for a long while. After awhile, he sensed something puzzling.
All deities' eyes now converged upon him. The announcer stammered, pointing his finger at Xie Lian.
Still bewildered, Xie Lian asked, “...What is it?”
No answer. Xie Lian pointed to himself, “...Me?”
Beside him, Shi Qingxuan patted his shoulder, “...Yes. You.”
“…”
Xie Lian remained baffled, “Me what? What about me?”
The announcer, swallowing hard, finally spoke again.
Then, the deities present all heard an incredulous, trembling voice.
"Temple of a Thousand Lamps, Crown Prince, three... three...
"Three thousand lamps!"